


Precious Moments Are All Lost in the Tide

by lovethatwewerein



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:34:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29430339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovethatwewerein/pseuds/lovethatwewerein
Summary: Santana doesn’t tell him about the meeting until the morning of, opening the curtains so that he’s forced to wake up earlier than he has in a week. He trusts her and she’s never steered his career wrong but she’s not always the most considerate, taking the reigns without letting him catch a break - especially on days like this where he doesn't have anything to do except wallow in everything he’s lost to touring already.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Sebastian Smythe
Comments: 14
Kudos: 53





	Precious Moments Are All Lost in the Tide

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sperrywink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sperrywink/gifts).



> Written for [sperrywink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sperrywink/works) as part of the Seblaine Gift Exchange. I ended up writing a famous au which is new to me but I really hope you like it. 
> 
> Title comes from 'Listen to your heart' by Roxette.

Santana doesn’t tell him about the meeting until the morning of, opening the curtains so that he’s forced to wake up earlier than he has in a week. He trusts her and she’s never steered his career wrong but she’s not always the most considerate, taking the reigns without letting him catch a break - especially on days like this where he doesn't have anything to do except wallow in everything he’s lost to touring already. 

She tells him to shower, calling room service before he’s even half awake. He doesn’t hear what she orders but he’ll probably like it and he’s hungry enough to eat anything right now. Skipping dinner hadn't been the best decision, he realises that now as the hot water washes over him, but he’d been exhausted, falling into bed before he could think about eating. 

There’s a knock on the bathroom door twenty minutes later, the click of Santana’s heels stopping suddenly, “Hurry up, Anderson. We’ve got places to be.” 

“Give me ten minutes,” he shouts back, massaging his scalp to wash the last of the shampoo out. There’s a huff before he hears a mumbled, “fine,” and her steps fade away. 

He loves her. She’s done so much for him since his career took off, keeping his schedule organised and booking him gigs he never even dreamed he’d be allowed to perform. And, although they hadn’t been the closest in high school, she’s been a support system over the years. From Kurt to Dave to half a dozen men that liked the idea of him until he couldn’t be with them all the time. 

She’s more than his manager and she’s more than his friend. Whatever she has planned for today, whoever they have to meet with, will surely be worth the sudden wake up and that’s what gets him out of the shower and into a smart polo and jeans while she accepts the dishes from room service when they arrive. 

“So what’s going on?” 

She sighs, crossing her arms on the table and he can clearly picture his mother’s voice telling her to get her elbows off the wood. He should call his mom soon. “There have been concerns expressed since you and Adam broke up about the state of your relationships.” 

“What do you mean?” He asks as his fork scrapes against the plate. They both wince at the sound. 

“People think you’re a bad influence,” she tells him, not bothering to soften the blow. “Parents don’t want their kids looking up to someone that can’t make a relationship last more than a couple of weeks.” 

“My audience is mainly young adults,” he points out, sipping his coffee when she rolls her eyes. “It’s still their parents who pay for things like concert tickets and merchandise.” 

“What does that matter?”

“That’s the entire point,” she explains, tapping her foot against the leg of the table, his plate jostling slightly with the movement. “If we don’t make it seem like you’re capable of a long and loving relationship, you’re going to lose heat. Letting this slide could be the end of your career.” 

It makes sense, even if he doesn’t love the implications of it. He’s fallen too hard, too fast before and it’s gotten him where he is now. And more than that, he doesn’t want anyone else to be dragged into his mess. He doesn’t say that though, instead scratching the back of his neck and waiting for Santana to continue. 

“Which is why I’ve found you the perfect boyfriend.” 

*

Santana’s plan has its merits - he’ll give her that. She’s thought of everything, not only who he’s going to pretend to date. Sebastian Smythe has his own agenda for agreeing to this meeting, an acting career that’s slowly sinking and a manager who’s just as serious as Santana about ensuring he doesn’t flame out. Even with all of that, a clear plan, he’s not sure he’s okay with deceiving his fans. Lying to them about who he is just so they don’t forget about him in the near future. 

“Look, Blaine,” Sebastian’s manager, Hunter says, turning to where he’s slumped in his chair beside his best friend. “If we didn’t both have something to gain from this, we wouldn’t be doing it. As it is, you need the help and we need the help so I don’t see the issue with telling a little white lie to stay on the map.” 

He glances at Santana out of the corner of his eye and she nods at him. He takes a deep breath before sitting up straighter. “I don’t like lying. To anyone. And I’m not sure I could pull this off even if I was.”

“Don’t think of it as lying then,” the other man shrugs, leaning across the table in a way that’s much too serious and also slightly scary. “Think of it as playing a role. You acted in high school, didn’t you?” 

“I guess so.” 

“It’s just an acting exercise,” Hunter reiterates, settling back in his chair before shifting his gaze to Santana. “So do we have a deal?” 

Santana turns to face him, tilting her head in that way he knows means she’s only giving him the illusion of having a choice. This is probably the best plan for his career, he knows that, but there’s this anxiousness in the pit of his stomach that he can’t quite let go of. Whatever it is, he’s sure it’ll go away with time. He nods at her in acceptance. 

“Sounds like we do, Clarington.” 

“Great,” Hunter says and it’s not supposed to be menacing (he assumes) but it seems it. Maybe he’s just always going to think that Hunter is planning to do something evil. Either way, he’ll probably have to get used to it. 

“Great,” Santana repeats and Blaine squints across the table at where Sebastian is sucking his cheek in. They’ll have to talk if this is going to look genuine but he’s sure Santana and Hunter will plan for that. He and Sebastian just have to hold hands once or twice. He can do that. 

*

Hunter gets them a table at a popular brunch spot three days later, assuring them that there will be at least two photographers lurking - one seated nearest to the waitress stand and one beside the window furthest from them. Santana threatens him before she lets him get out of the car to not mess this up and he waits for Sebastian at the door, gaze flitting between the building and the street opposite him while he does. 

“You ready to do this?” Sebastian asks when he arrives and Blaine almost jumps out of his skin at the touch of the other man’s fingertips on the small of his back. 

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he nods, smiling back at the waitress when she leads them to their table, firmly in the view of both photographers. He accepts the menu she hands him, placing it on the table and asking for a coffee. His nerves are in overdrive and he’s trying desperately to stop his leg bouncing. 

“I’ll be back to take your orders in a few minutes,” she says politely, and he briefly wonders whether she’s yet another person that Hunter _knows_. 

“Is it bad that I already ate breakfast?” Sebastian leans across the table to whisper to him, the menu folding slightly at the corner where it digs into his chest. “I knew we were coming here but I haven’t eaten anything other than cereal in the morning since I was thirteen.” 

“What was your plan then?” 

“Honestly,” Sebastian tilts his head to the side and there’s the click of a camera from somewhere. “I was just going to order a coffee. Maybe a muffin.” 

“Does Hunter know that you’ve already eaten?” 

“Like I was going to tell him that I’ve completely disregarded the only thing he’s told me to do today,” Sebastian chuckles, finally settling back into his chair as their waitress approaches. “I want to live to see my twenty-fifth birthday.” 

He tries not to laugh, really. “Well I haven’t eaten so I’m going to order. Maybe they have a box of cornflakes in the kitchen - just in case.” 

“Very funny,” Sebastian frowns but he does ask the waitress if there’s the possibility he can just get a fruit salad after Blaine orders his food. “Please don’t tell Santana about this.” 

He agrees not to and they let a natural conversation flow, both wary of the cameras at either side of them. This is supposed to be a first date, the first in a long line of them if Santana and Hunter have their way, which - from experience - he’s sure they’ll get, so they don’t dwell too long on any of the topics. 

Sebastian, to his credit, knows more about Blaine than he knows about him. He knows about Cooper, about his whirlwind romance with Adam that had ended a couple months ago whereas Blaine is caught off-guard when Sebastian mentions his sister or how he and Hunter have known one another since they were seniors. 

Whatever show they manage to put on over eggs and Sebastian half-finished bowl of fruit, it makes it onto the front page of the gossip magazine Santana throws at him the morning after, a proud smile on her face. 

*

“Did you know you’re trending on Twitter?” Santana asks while the stylist attempts to tame his curls into neat ringlets. He winces when she tugs particularly hard on some of them with the comb. “Well, you and Sebastian.” 

“I didn’t know that,” he tells her. It’s barely been a day and she holds the phone in front of his face so he can read a collection of tweets about the photos from their brunch. “This is good, isn’t it?” 

“It’s spectacular.”

“So why do you sound put-out?” 

She leans against the wall beside the mirror in front of him, glaring back at the stylist when she clicks her tongue. “I can’t tell who started it and I want to know if it was natural or if Hunter had something to do with it.” 

“Does it matter?” 

“I guess not,” she frowns before her phone rings. “I’ve gotta take this.” 

He can’t exactly stop her so she walks off and he’s not sure if he imagines the stylist becoming calmer. Santana can be scary, he was scared of her once too, but surely she’s not that terrifying. Whatever it is, his hair gets styled and he meets her in the corridor, ready for the photoshoot she’d lined up for today. 

*

Hunter manages to get him a seat in the audience for one of Sebastian’s interviews the next week and, although he knows what to expect, this is the first time either of them are going to be asked what’s going on. Whether they’re an item or just messing around. It’s up to Sebastian to play it right and assure everyone that they’re so close to falling in love - he doesn’t doubt that he can - but this could be a turning point in their careers, whichever way it goes. 

“Photos showing you and singer-songwriter Blaine Anderson close over a meal last week have been all over social media,” the host says, turning his body towards Sebastian in that feigned type of interest that he’s mastered from years in the job. “What can you tell us about that?” 

Sebastian smiles this bashful grin that Blaine can tell is just verging on genuine enough to be believed. He’s not sure how he knows that, it’s just instinct, but it still draws interest from the crowd, the lady in front of him leaning forward slightly. “We met through his ex, Sam Evans, actually. We were at a party and we just really hit it off.” 

“So would you say you’re the reason Blaine and Sam broke up?” 

“I wouldn’t say that at all,” Sebastian shakes his head, crossing one ankle over the other in an effort at faux casualness. “The sparks between people die out and sometimes they grow stronger and, you know, no one can help that. It just happens.” 

“Well, that’s just beautiful,” the host says and Blaine’s glad that this had been Sebastian’s thing to deal with. He’d done it so effortlessly, told the story Santana had decided on and he’s reminded that despite his last two movies flopping, Sebastian is still an actor. “We’re out of time for tonight but it was a pleasure to catch up with you, Sebastian.”

They shake hands and there’s applause that fades once Sebastian is out of the room, Blaine sneaking out of the side door to catch up with him. He’s never liked the corridors behind stages, so bland and bleak compared to the bright lights and smiles of other people. The flooring is always more shabby than he expects, and there’s always paint chipped on the walls. It makes him believe that everything is an illusion he’s benefitting from. 

“Why are you just standing around outside?” 

He blinks, turning his body towards Sebastian. “I got distracted for a second. It was nothing.” 

“Okay,” the other man raises an eyebrow, leaning his shoulder against the doorjamb of an open dressing room. “I have one more interview but do you fancy hanging out afterwards? I’m getting queasy having every place we go be Hunter’s choice.” 

“Yea- yeah,” he stutters, knowing that he’d never have it in him to take the initiative against Santana. But Sebastian has a point, they have to be comfortable around one another without the cameras and the audience and managers watching their every move. “I have to run an errand so I’ll meet you back here in an hour.”

“Sounds like a plan, killer.” 

*

They don’t have a plan, he realises when they duck into an alley to figure something out instead of wandering aimlessly, Sebastian’s fingers wrapped lightly around his wrist so they don’t lose one another. 

“We could go see a movie,” he suggests, searching showtimes on his phone. “We could see a truly horrible romance and make fun of the plot.” 

“That seems very mean, Anderson,” Sebastian chuckles, tugging him closer so they can check for something to watch together. “Right up my alley.” 

“This isn’t your alley.” He blinks quickly. Sebastian snorts. “Shut up.” 

The closest showing is in half an hour and he knows that, if they walk quickly, they can make it just on time. Tina had mentioned this movie to him when it was released a few months ago and he’d promised he would watch it at some point - this probably wasn’t what she had in mind but it would have to do.

There’s only a few people in the room when they arrive, scattered around with their gazes focused on the trailers, so they find seats near the back. Sebastian finally drops his hand from Blaine’s and he doesn't expect his wrist to feel so empty when it’s gone. 

“Do you know that guy?” He points to the actor on the screen. Sebastian turns towards him. “No.” 

“Do you know that guy?” 

“No.” 

“What about her? Do you know her?” 

“I don’t know everyone in movies about high school, Blaine,” Sebastian mutters, slumping back in his chair. “But yes, I do know her.” 

“Ha.”

A girl a few seats in front of them twists around to face them, glaring at him. He tucks himself lower in the chair. “Sorry.” 

It’s a terrible film - truly awful, if he’s honest - but there’s something about it that’s so real that he doesn’t hate it for how bad it is. It could be that this was his thing, he’d chosen to come here, to spend his afternoon mocking a horrible plot and subpar acting with his fake boyfriend and it wasn’t just for a publicity stunt. This wasn’t Hunter’s idea, nor was it Santana’s. 

“I heard they're making a sequel,” Sebastian tells him as the overhead lights flick on while the credits play. The girl from before narrows her eyes at them as she passes by. “Should I pencil you in for the premiere?” 

And there’s probably no chance that they’ll still be together by then, in any capacity, but it’s fun to pretend that he can make this work. That they’re not lying to themselves as well as their audience. “I’d be offended if you didn’t.” 

*

There’s small, common things that they do over the next couple of months - dates Hunter sets up for them and a photoshoot Santana somehow manages to organise. He joins Sebastian in the crowd for a baseball game, a team he doesn’t know or really care about but it’s fun just to hang out. Whatever this thing with the other man is, however it’s going to end, he’s sure he’s made a friend through it. That they won’t just forget one another when their story ends. 

*

Tina had made it a rule when everyone started getting busy that they’d have dinner together at least once every three months. As many of them would make it as possible; him, Santana, Tina, Marley and, every so often, Kitty would join them as well. She’d had the genius idea of making it a potluck on their second dinner when no one could decide what they wanted to eat and there’d been a collection of thai, chinese and one McDonald’s bag on the floor the next day. 

This isn’t even the first time he’d brought a boyfriend along, Sam had fit into their group dynamic easily. But he’s also never had to pretend in front of his closest friends. Still though, maybe he and Sebastian have fallen simply enough into a close bond that they won’t have to act that much. His friends will just believe in their relationship without asking too many questions. 

“I’ve never actually been to a potluck before,” Sebastian tells him when he opens the door, Blaine pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “So I figured it was safer to bring wine.” 

“Good bottle too.” Santana nods in approval, taking it from the man’s hand to pour a glass for herself and probably no one else. He’ll be lucky if he even sees the bottle again. 

“Thank you for coming tonight,” he smiles, returning to his spot on the floor beside the sofa. His eyes widen when Santana places a glass of wine on the coffee table in front of him. Sebastian smiles back at him. “No problem.”

“Tina should be here soon,” he explains, the oven timer rings and he pushes himself up, his knee clicking uncomfortably. Santana narrows her eyes at the sound and Sebastian looks kind of concerned. “I forgot to stretch today. I’m fine.” 

“Blaine, you’re in your mid-twenties. You shouldn’t be clicking at the joints like a sixty year old.”

He rolls his eyes. 

“You need an appointment with a physiotherapist,” she points at him, causing him to scrunch up his nose. He’s never fully recovered from Cooper’s extravagance. “I’m not arguing with you on this.”

“Fine,” he huffs, making his way into the kitchen to take the macaroni out of the oven. There’s footsteps on the wooden flooring and it’s not Santana’s heels, the door hadn’t opened, so it has to be Sebastian. And it is, he learns, the taller man standing in the door of the kitchen. 

He’s never been self-conscious about his home before. It’s small but he’s never wanted anything with more space than completely necessary. The kitchen is nothing more than an oven, a few cupboards and a sink and it’s enough to do the job. Still, there’s something personal about it, like his life is spread out on the walls, free for Sebastian to judge if he chooses to. 

“Should I worry about meeting Tina?” 

“She can be a bit,” he hesitates, a description on the tip of his tongue that he’s not entirely sure how to form. “She can be a bit much but she does everything she does out of love.” 

“Meaning that she’s definitely going to ask probing questions.”

“One-hundred percent,” he laughs, nudging Sebastian out of the way so he can carry the dish into the living room. “But I’m sure you’ll win her over eventually. You’re just that good.” 

“Gross,” Santana mumbles, standing at the knock on the door. 

*

They don’t see each other for a month and he’s surprised at how much he misses the other man, the thrill of being able to flirt without repercussions and the freedom to laugh over the small things because none of it mattered. 

But even with their relationship - it was just easier to call it that in the privacy of his mind - taking a backseat to the first few stops on a short tour Santana had planned months ago, they still find time to talk. 

He lies down on his bed, the pillows of the hotel comfortable even though it’s difficult to sleep. It’s just not the same as his pillows but he deals. “I thought you had that interview.” 

“It got cancelled,” Sebastian explains, the navy wall of his living room a nice backdrop for any conversation. It really was calming sometimes. “Something about someone cooler, more famous than me.” 

“I highly doubt there’s anyone cooler than you,” he jokes and Sebastian laughs loudly. 

“You’re right. They just have no taste.”

Blaine nods like he’s achieved something. “I’m glad you can see things from my point of view.”

The light in his room turns off, an energy-saving effort the hotel has been trying out for a few months. He leans across the bed to switch the bedside lamp on, illuminating him a soft orange glow. 

“When are you back?” 

It’s soft and unsure and he’s never thought they could be like this. That he or Sebastian could let go of the illusion for even a second and pretend this is who they are. That this is okay. 

“Second week of next month. Santana added a few more shows.”

“Alright,” Sebastian nods, his smile fading for just a second before it’s back, as vibrant as ever. “I should probably head to bed. Early start. Boss’s orders.” 

Sebastian bids him goodbye, ending the call. And it’s weird, the sudden loneliness he feels as he tucks himself under the comforter, a cheap substitute for body heat that he’d been sure he had adjusted to in the last few years. Apparently, he was wrong. 

*

Sebastian does win Tina over, much quicker than Blaine anticipated if he’s honest. She’s still much too invested in their love life, everything she asks them barely straddling the border between interested and _too far_. They play it off, giving her just enough information or refusing to answer, ignoring the moments when it gets restless over how it’s taking over his life. 

He’s not just lying to his friends or his audience - he’s lying to himself when he says it’s not starting to take its toll, the lack of affection he garners from the relationship far away from the bright flashes of cameras. No matter what he’d agreed to or how much he enjoyed Sebastian’s company, Blaine’s always been guided by his emotions and this is no different. 

He still wants to be loved.

*

“Do you ever wish you hadn’t agreed to this? Not just our arrangement but the whole thing - a career in the public eye.” 

They’re on the balcony at a new year’s party Hunter made them go to. A perfect opportunity, he’d called it. Who were they to argue? He tilts his head towards the night sky, the stars and the moon all twinkling. 

“I don’t regret following my passion,” he shakes his head, resting his elbows on the wrought iron before them. “But part of me regrets letting it dictate my life. I’ll never not be thankful for what I’ve become, people admiring me because they think I get it, but…” 

“Don’t worry. I feel the same way sometimes,” Sebastian chuckles and the countdown starts from inside. He desperately wishes he could pretend not to hear it. “It’s almost time to ring in the new year like every other couple on the planet.” 

A pit forms in the bottom of his stomach that he can’t find reason for. “I guess we should give the people what they want.” 

He turns, his back pressed against the cold metal and Sebastian moves to stand in front of him. This could be the moment, if they were like all of the couples inside, where they shared something passionate and unforgiving. Lose themselves in being in love in a world where that’s what they were paid to portray. 

Fireworks go off and a cheer sounds from indoors and he braces himself for what has to come, what he wants but can’t admit to. He whispers, “Happy new year.” 

“Happy new year, Blaine.” A soft kiss is pressed to his cheek, his skin warm even when Sebastian pulls back and he lets himself bask in it. How well the other man understood him in that moment. How much he actually cared. 

Whatever this is, whenever Santana decides it has to end, they’ll have these moments. Quiet and gentle and private. Secrets they can share in the future when they leave one another’s life. When they finally get to move on. 

It hurts, the sudden sharp realisation that this won’t go on forever. And then, with Sebastian offering to give him a few minutes and going back inside, he understands. There’s a million reasons he could be upset but there’s only one that makes sense. That grounds him enough to go back into the party and pretend that everything is okay. 

*

It’s the same meeting room from when they’d first begun this arrangement. They’re in the same seats, he and Santana opposite Hunter and Sebastian. It’s weird, going back to where they started like nothing has changed. Like every part of him isn’t on fire for the first time in years. 

There’s also the fact that he misses Sebastian. Not only their stupid dates - bad movies and a trip to the zoo that he’d rather forget - but the way they had been allowed to laugh, to touch without the pressure of making things work themselves because they had the support of the people around them. They’d been allowed to be a normal couple, discover the way each other loved with abandon, and he was going to miss that. 

He was going to miss Sebastian.

“It has been a long year,” Santana announces, her elbows leaning on the table and he still wants to tell her it’s a bad habit although he knows she won’t listen. “But we’ve come to our natural end.” 

Hunter nods and it’s only then that Blaine pays attention to the folder before him, blue with only a few sheets of paper inside. “Sebastian has his premiere in a few months and we’ll be sure to be there for the opening performance of your tour in March. But you’re free of one another aside from friendly smiles whenever you happen to cross paths.” 

One of the sheets of paper is slid across the table to him and one is placed in front of Sebastian. It’s a contract, detailing that they’ll never inform anyone of what this really was - that they’ll let the world continue to believe it was nothing more than a romance that fizzled out when the spark was allowed to burn for too long. 

“You both just need to sign on the lines marked with a pink tab and we can all move on with our lives.” 

Santana hands him a pen, a silver ballpoint with black ink and it’s such a tiny miniscule detail in this moment, this huge moment that it kickstarts his brain somehow, his chair screeching against the floor as he rushes into the hallway. 

There’s a fire door at the end of the corridor and he lets his forehead rest gently against the glass, the pane cool against his hot skin. He might have stood there only for seconds but everything from his shoulders to the air surrounding him feels heavy so time stretches on. 

“Blaine?” There’s a light tap on his shoulder and he tilts his head to the side, Sebastian standing next to him. “What’s going on?” 

Maybe it’s the year they’ve had, getting to know one another until he’s not sure what he’s faking and what's real. Whether he’s spent so long pretending to be in love with Sebastian that he’s convinced himself that he is. Whatever it is, he trusts him. Trusts the warmth in his heart when he stares into the green eyes in front of him. 

“I don’t want this to end,” he whispers and he’s glad this isn’t some big gesture like in one of Sebastian’s cinema flops. That this is just them, a moment shared between two people that they can resolve by themselves.

“What do you mean?” 

He’d always been a romantic at heart though, since he was seven and Disney movies were his favourite way to pass the time. “I think I might be in love with you.” 

A pause and then he almost misses it, the tiniest blush crawling up Sebastian’s neck followed by the smallest of smiles. “That makes this a lot less awkward.” 

Perhaps Sebastian loved Disney movies too because there’s something gentle and caring and altogether magical about the way he leans in, reaching a hand up to cup Blaine’s cheek before their lips meet. And he knows, from the tops of his ears to the tips of his toes - there’s no way in hell either of them could fake this. It’s exactly what he believed it was. 

*

“I told you asking them to sign a fake contract was the better idea,” Hunter tells her, tucking the papers back into his folder. 

She glares, clicking her tongue. “Whatever. It worked and you owe me a drink.” 

“I’ll send you and your wife a gift basket.” 

“That works too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm at love-that-we-were-in on tumblr.


End file.
